


lost boy

by madfatty



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:34:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4934335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madfatty/pseuds/madfatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the break-up, Finn finds out just how much losing Rae has cost him. Set in series three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lost boy

She almost doesn’t hear the front door over the baby’s screaming until the knocking grows louder and more insistent. _If it’s another one of those bloody bible thumpers,_ Linda thinks, as she storms down the hallway, _she’s going to give them a right earful._ She’s just in the mood. But Linda recognises the silhouette before she opens the door. Christ, this is all she needs. She shouldn’t let him in but she’s desperate and he’s always had a way with the baby. She’s just thankful that Chloe was able to convince Rae to leave the house for a while.

Finn is mid-knock when Linda yanks the door open with great force, and he lurches forward a little awkwardly. “Um…”

“Inside. Now.” She says, turning away, already headed back to the kitchen where the wailing continues, unabated.

As he rounds the entrance to the kitchen he’s met with the sight of a red-faced, squalling Jasmine, sitting on the floor, with a death-grip on a handful of soggy bread in a tiny lake of milk pooling out of her upended cup. She’s worked herself up to just this side of frenzy.

“Hey, hey, hey Miss Minnie… what’s all this?” He asks from the doorway, the sound is light and honey-dipped.

It’s almost comical, the double take Jazz does when she hears his voice. If Linda hadn’t witnessed it herself, she wouldn’t have believed it. When Jazz looks up and sees Finn, she goes from near hysteria to a dazzling, face-splitting grin in seconds. Her breath is still hitching from all the effort of screaming, but she’s smiling. The little madam. It’s just so bloody annoying, Linda could scream herself. He’s always had that effect on the Boushtat women. Damn him.

The baby bounces up and down, clapping her hands together before she launches herself across the floor, throwing herself at him with her arms skyward, demanding ‘up, up, up’. The half-sucked piece of bread is now stuck to the leg of his jeans but he’s unfazed. In fact, the grin on his face almost surpasses Jazz’s. It looks like it’s the first time Finn’s smiled in weeks. He turns to Linda for permission, who gives a curt nod of her head.

“Well, go on, then. You heard her; ‘Up!’”

“Hello, my gorgeous girl. How’s my little princess?” He coos sweetly at the toddler as he scoops her up into his arms. Her face is flushed and hot, glistening wetly with snot and tears, and he fusses at her, heading to the kitchen sink, stepping over the puddle she’s made, and runs his fingers under the cool water, then gently pats her skin; all the while, he’s quietly admonishing the little one about the mess she’s made on the floor, and all the noise, and how she should be a good girl for her mum. Jazz holds his face in both sticky hands, mesmerised by the movement of his mouth. She murmurs back, just as quietly, just as sweetly in response. If Linda didn’t know better, she’d swear Jazz was apologising. Typical. He’s been here less than a minute and he’s got the little harridan eating out of his hand. Finn Nelson; baby whisperer.

The baby pulls hard at his lip with her messy fingers and giggles. Finn pushes his face into the baby’s neck and inhales deeply. His arms tighten around her as much as her squirming will allow. His relief is palpable and poignant and in that moment Linda has to remind herself that she’s supposed to be angry with him. He covers Jasmine’s face in loud, exaggerated kisses until she’s squealing in delight, dancing her round the kitchen to music only he can hear.

“Don’t rev her up again, Finn. I’m trying to get her down. Little madam is fighting me tooth and nail today.”

“Sorry. Maybe a bottle?” He whispers so Jazz doesn’t hear. He’s heading into dangerous territory. _As if he’s not in enough trouble as it is_ , she thinks. It’s an argument that’s been raging in the Boushtat house for weeks now; Linda wants to wean her off but Jazz has other ideas. It’s been a titanic battle of wills that has left everyone feeling frazzled and on-edge, resulting in Karim and Rae and Finn walking a very fine line between the two ruling forces of the household, just trying to keep the peace. “Just this once. I’ll give it her, if you like.”

“She’s getting too big for a bottle.” Linda mouths back, like they’re starring in a pantomime. She automatically gears up for her well-rehearsed rant about how an eighteen month old shouldn’t dictate to four grown adults, but she thinks about the battle they’ve endured this morning and relents. She scowls and nods her ascent unhappily.

Finn continues to waltz Jazz ‘round the room, soothing the baby with words and hands until her breathing calms and she settles against him. He reaches up, snatching down the baby’s bottle that’s been hidden in the top cupboard and hands it off to Linda as he makes another circuit of the kitchen. In one fluid movement he gathers the roll of paper towel from the worktop, and bends to mop up the mess, Jazz guffawing in surprise as he dips her down suddenly so she’s hovering inches from the floor and the kitchen is filled with the happy tangle of their laughter.

Linda takes the moment of respite to gather herself. Everything’s gone to shit: Karim’s being out of work and her having to take on extra shifts at the hospital, the move to Tunisia; Rae’s recent behaviour and the confusion around her place at Bristol; the split with Finn, Jesus, even Jazz’s tantrums… It’s all happening at once and there’s no time to think. She just needs a minute. If she could just take a minute… Linda shakes her head and starts work on the bottle.

When Linda turns to hand Finn the completed bottle, she finds him slouched against the kitchen cupboard gazing down adoringly at Jazz, her youngest held tight against his chest, snuggled cosily inside his arms. He takes it with a tiny smile and offers it to the baby. She accepts it in triumph, gurgling happily. Jazz wraps her tiny fingers around Finn’s, holding him in place. He seems ecstatic to be held.

Linda allows herself to study him finally. He looks awful. Bone-weary and anxious; the skin beneath his eyes is the colour of new bruises and though it’s only been a week, he looks thinner. Smaller somehow.

“When did you last eat?” She asks.

Finn drags his gaze from the baby, his face screwed up in confusion. “I… I…”

“Right…” says Linda, turning towards the fridge, “sit down. No arguments.” She commands, and he moves obediently towards the breakfast bar. She fills the kettle, flicks it on and then busies herself with making lunch.

It’s all so familiar, the comfortable ease of the three of them together in her kitchen. The mornings after the nights he’d stayed over, him up early for work, Linda up with Jazz, bleary-eyed and quiet, tea and toast; the baby an easy focus for them both. Linda had no idea she’d miss it.

“Give her here, so you can eat.” Says Linda, as she sets a sandwich and a steaming mug of tea in front of him.

“She’s alright. She’s almost off. I can manage both.” He shifts a little, his hold on Jazz tightening unconsciously. He tugs the near-empty bottle from between her cupid’s-bow lips with a wet pop and sits it on the table in front of him. Jazz fidgets in his grasp, rearranging herself until her face is fitted firmly into the curve of Finn’s throat, her thumb in her mouth, the fingers of her other hand twisting lazily in the hair at the nape of his neck. A burp rumbles through her tiny frame and erupts so forcefully that her little body vibrates with it, startling all three of them. She looks at Finn wide-eyed for a brief moment, then settles back against him, sighing contentedly. “S’cuse you.” Finn laughs.

“She misses you.” Linda says, nodding at the baby to clarify. So he won’t get his hopes up.

“I miss her. I miss all of you.” He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t - _he always looks like that,_ she thinks. He will talk to her. Maybe not just yet, but he will. She and Finn are allies. When it comes to her eldest daughter, Finn has lots to say; to Linda at least. If only he could say all the beautiful, loving things he’s said about her daughter to Rae herself. If only Rae would open up to Finn, share her fears and worries without feeling she was a burden… _Jesus, the pair of them; I should bang their bloody heads together._ Linda gives him room to gather his thoughts.

“Eat.” He looks blankly at the food in front of him, takes a halfhearted bite of the sandwich and stares blindly ahead. She leans against the other end of the breakfast bar, watching him closely and sipping steadily at her tea, occasionally prodding him to take another mouthful. They share the silence amiably enough while he finishes.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why Finn is here, but Linda doesn’t have the luxury of time to wait until he’s ready to talk about it. Rae could be home any minute and it doesn’t bear thinking about what would happen if he was still here when she arrived.

“Why are you here, Finn?”

“I wanted to see you.” He looks nervous. Upset. “I wanted to explain…”

“It’s not me you need to explain yourself to, Finn.”

“Please. I… I messed up. I know…”

“You know, do you?” Linda hisses, and she lets the anger boil up inside her. How dare he? “Do you know what it did to her? That… scene, at yours… Do you know what she’s been through this week? What _we’ve_ been through? She doesn’t sleep, she won’t eat. You know… ” she spits through gritted teeth, shaking her head in disgust. She draws a deep breath, and then another. It takes some effort, but she keeps her voice low. “Thoughtless, selfish boy… Did you know she hurt herself? Did you? My child was so bloody frightened by her own thoughts that she took herself off to a mental hospital. She wanted them to re-admit her, but they wouldn’t. Do you know how scared I was, Finn? How could you possibly know? I don’t understand how you, of all people, knowing her the way you do, could do that to her. I trusted you.”

From somewhere inside her ire a tiny part of Linda registers the look of shock and pain that mar Finn’s features but she cannot afford him any sympathy. Her Rachel is in pain. He thinks he knows, but he has no idea.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. It's a broken noise, wet with the unchecked tears streaming down his face.

“Yeah, well you can shove your apology up your arse, Finn Nelson. You broke my Rachel’s heart.” That’s it. That’s what she’s wanted to tell him since Rae came home devastated a week ago. That should be the end of it now. Now she can close the door on him, knowing that she’d said her piece. It’s not as satisfying as she thought it would be.

“I was supposed to look after her and I let her down. I let you down. I’m sorry.” 

It’s hardly enough, but it may be all she’s going to get. He’s quiet for such a long time that Linda can sympathise with Rae’s on-going frustration with his interminable reticence. Just when she thinks he has said all he’s going to, he takes a deep breath and swipes at his face.

“All I want is to be with her.” He begins quietly, his tongue slipping quickly over dry lips. “I would follow her to the ends of the earth; her going to Bristol was never a problem we couldn’t work out.” He’s staring at Linda intently with red-rimmed eyes, desperate to try and make her understand. “But she wouldn’t even talk about it.” He pauses, trying to rein in the anger and frustration edging in to his tone. Jazz grizzles and squirms at the change in atmosphere and he soothes her, waiting until she settles before starting again.

“I want her to go. I do. I know there’s a chance I could get left behind, but that’s the chance I have to take because she’s too clever to stay here. I know that. I thought we were strong enough…” his voice tapers off as he gets lost inside his thoughts.

“Then she told me she didn’t get in and I started thinking, hoping… and she… she said she loved me and that she wanted to move in with me and I… I was so happy that I didn’t see that she wasn’t.” He stops again, his gaze now fixed doggedly on the floor.

There’s a sudden sharpness in Linda’s chest that catches her by surprise, a feeling she doesn’t want to examine.

“But all the lying and the secrets and the distance… She knew she was leaving and she didn’t say anything. She didn’t trust me to be happy for her. That’s what hurt the most, you know? I was sad and angry that she kept pushing me away and every time I tried to fix it, it only seemed to make things worse. And I did something stupid. “ He is all resignation and regret, and while she does not doubt for a moment his sincerity, Linda’s at a loss as to understand what she is supposed to do with his confession.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be saying all this to you but I want you to know why…”

“These are the things you should tell Rae, Finn.” She says to him, not unkindly. “You need to talk to Rachel, love.”

She may as well have said he should climb Everest, the look he gives her.

“What do I do? I don’t know what to do.”

When Rae first told her what had happened between them, Linda consoled herself with the idea of slapping him senseless the next time she saw him, but looking at him now, she can see there’s not a punishment she could devise that would come close to the punishment he’s putting himself through. Her anger leaves on a breath and now all she feels is disappointed and sad. She sighs, deflated.

“I’m not sure there’s anything you can do, love. It may have just run its course.”

Linda knows it’s not what he wants to hear but she can’t see a way past it. However much she and Finn believe that Rae is worth more than the world, Rae struggles to see it for herself. In a misguided effort to keep herself safe, she fights to hold those who care for her the most at arm’s length. It can make loving her a challenge and Finn is only nineteen, still a baby. She can hardly blame him for faltering when for all her experience, Linda herself hasn’t always been able to meet the challenge. It might be kinder if it were to end before any more damage is done.

“The state of you,” she says, picking up the paper napkin from beside his plate and wiping roughly at the remains of Jasmine’s lunch on his face. She gently grips his unshaven chin and tilts his face up to hers to examine her handiwork. He’s so pale and defeated. And sad. So sad. She’s overwhelmed by the swell of motherly concern that fills her. This bloody kid, with his slow, warm smile and his soft, kind heart, has wormed his way into her affections and her family until Linda has come to think of Finn as hers too.

“The state of you,” she whispers again. He’s looking at her with those big, wet, soulful eyes and she instinctively pushes his overly-long fringe back from his forehead. Her hand slides briefly down to caress the side of his face. It’s only fleeting, but he closes his eyes and leans into her touch. “You need a bloody haircut.” She says gruffly as she pulls her hand away.

“I’m sorry love, but Rae’ll be home soon…” She says, standing over him, arms outstretched to take the baby. He nods, dumbly. Finn presses his lips to Jazz’s cheek before relinquishing her to her mother. Linda slides the baby onto her hip with practiced ease and tenses when Finn leans forward to rest his head against her other hip. She pats his head awkwardly as it hangs against her side, pulling distractedly at the scattered fragments of her daughter’s lunch now solidifying in his hair. “Come on, now. Enough of that.”

He stands and out of habit, takes his dishes to the sink.

“I should go. Thank you for…”

She cuts him off. “It’s nothing. Just a sandwich…”

“S’not ‘nothing’. It were never ‘nothing’. Not to me.” Finn insists.

Soft sod. Linda waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t be daft. I didn’t…”

“No. Please. It’s important and this may be my only chance to say it. You’ve always been good to me. I know losing Rae means losing… but I wanted to say … thank you. For everything.”

Linda knows that there are very few people in this world who have chosen to love her of their own accord. Finn Nelson appears to be one of those people. She’s not one for crying usually and she doesn’t want to start now, but it’s dawning on her that this may be the last time she sees him. The thought makes her eyes well and her throat constrict and she can’t push any words out past the burning. The best she can offer him is a watery smile and a small nod. She hopes he understands what it is she can’t say.

Finn turns reluctantly and walks out into the hallway. Linda follows him to the front door, calling him back as it opens.

“When does Gary get back?”

“This evening sometime, I think.”

“You should go there for a bit. Don’t stay cooped up in that flat on your own. Go to your Dad’s and get some sleep. You’ll feel better.”

He nods, smiling sadly as he leans down over the baby to kiss her again. Linda pats him awkwardly on the shoulder. “Try not to worry. It’ll work itself out.” Suddenly she reaches forward and places a brusque kiss to his cheek, but before Finn can lean into it, savour it, she pulls away.

“Could you tell Rae I’m…?” He stammers when the silence between them becomes too much.

“I’ll tell her you came ‘round.” She assures him. “Take care of yourself Finn.” She turns away and shuts the door before he can say anything else.

Linda moves to the kitchen window, hidden behind the lace curtains, Jasmine curled on her shoulder, still fighting off sleep. They watch him as he sits unmoving in his car, head resting on the steering wheel. They stand there until he starts the car and pulls slowly out of the driveway. “Say, ‘ta-ta Finn.” She tells her softly.

“Ta-ta,” mimics the baby sleepily. Linda presses a kiss to Jasmine’s cheek and is confronted by the smell of milk and peanut butter and Finn. 

“Right madam; let’s get you cleaned up and then, my girl, we’re both going down for a nap.”

When Rae comes home, Linda tells her that Finn had called to apologise and that she’d told him to shove his apology up his arse. The rest of it can wait for another day.


End file.
